Love Me
by Inevitable Darkness
Summary: All Harry wants is to have Severus love him. But the Potions Master was to caught up in hating him to even consider his feelings. Will a bitter man ever open his eyes and see the precious and cherished emotion called love?
1. Prologue

Alright! **Disclaimer** first, I do not own Harry Potter nor any of the books characters. I'm merely playing with them. I'd like to give a special thank you to Miss Blizzard for helping me with the story in so many ways. You should thank her too! If it wasn't for her, I wouldn't be putting this up anymore. Hopefully, you guys will enjoy this, this time...

**Rating:** _R_

**Pairing:** _Severus Snape/Harry Potter_

**Warnings:** _Abuse implied, Vulgar language, detailed (hopefully) areas on the cutting and situations. The last I can't tell you cause I'll give the ending away._

**KEY:**

_'Blah'_ - thoughts  
**» **- beginning of a flashbacks  
**«**- end of flashbacks

* * *

_Prologue:_

'_I want you to touch me... don't leave me... just love me...'_ The thought flitted across Harry's mind, unwanted at the moment. These thoughts were unwelcome for they made the hurt of these harsh words so much more unbearable.

"I hate you! Don't touch me! Don't even look at me! Just get the hell away from me! I'm so fucking sick of you!" Harry screeched as he yanked himself out of Snape's reach.

'_Kiss me... let me feel the soft velvet of your lips on mine... just hold me once..._' Harry desperately wanted to voice his thoughts. He didn't need the pain. He did want the pain of rejection. Harry didn't think he could handle it.

Snape's words were more hurtful, tearing at Harry's heart. However, Harry detected the pain in them, and it was greater than his own pain. Harry looked into Severus' cold black eyes, only to see them harden instead of a soft look that he imagined that would be there.

"Watch your tongue, boy," Severus hissed, his voice low and hard. Harry's small form shuddered at the last word... They both knew that Harry hated that word with a passion, that it caused pain, a lot of pain...

"And what are you going to do if I don't?" Harry quietly asked sneering a sneer that could almost rival Snape's.

"Ten points for cheek, Mr. Potter." Harry's emerald eyes hardened themselves as he glared heavily at Severus. Severus could see the boy's eyes darkening with hate, but he couldn't see the longing. He would have grinned if he wasn't so angry himself. Harry struggled with the tears that threatened to come out, and he simply looked away to hide them. Severus took this as if Harry was giving up, surrendering.

'_I just want you... can't you see that?_' Harry thought. His thoughts were sluggish, but his heart pounded with angry and hurt, "Fu-"

"Get out of my sight, Mr. Potter, and a month's worth of detention with me." Harry left out a frustrated and strangled scream as his body shook more with the sheer force of it. His magic seeped out and shattered the containers that held contents that he didn't even want to know about. The foul odors stunk up the room, causing Snape to wrinkle his hooked nose in disgust.

Snape took a deep and slow breath, controlling himself, "Get. Out. _Now, Mr. Potter._" It was said so coldly, laced with cruelty. Harry reached his hand out to touch his professor with all of the courage he had left in his body. Severus was so oblivious to Harry's feelings. And he simply swiped Harry's hand away, smacking as the hand was shoved.

'_Love me..._' Harry thought again. That's all he wanted... For Severus to love him. But it would never happen. The Potions Master was too caught up in hating him to even consider his feelings.

Finally giving into the angry tears that gathered in his eyes, he let them fall freely. Rigidly, Harry turned and stalked out of the classroom, slamming the door shut before running off to his tower.

'_If only you could love me..._' was his only thought as he ran.

But he knew it could never happen.


	2. Chapter One

Chapter One:

* * *

Harry ran to the fat lady's portrait, barely able to get the password out with his heavy breathing. Quickly, he wiped his tears off of his red face before he went into the common room where his tall, red-headed friend was waiting for him.

"Hey mate," Ron cheerily cried. He took one look at his best friend's wet, red face saying, "Whoa... detention was a bugger, huh?" He smiled lightly in comfort and it all but fell off of his freckled face when Harry's harsh glare (one that could rival Snape's, yet again) focused on Ron's eyes. Ron visibly cringed and automatically, Harry lightened up, having a pang of guilt streak through him.

"Sorry, Ron..." he quietly said as he ran his pale hand through his jet-black hair.

"It's okay. Come here! Look at the latest news on Quidditch!" just as quickly as Harry lightened his look, Ron forgave him, forgetting all that went on. 'He's so obsessed...' Harry thought with a roll of his jaded eyes. 'But I'm no better than him...' he continued to think slowly, 'I'm obsessed with something too...' His eyes started to water again, tears threatening to leak out, as he thought about the recent events with Snape.

_»"You idiot boy!" Snape bellowed angrily baring his yellow and crooked teeth._

_"Don't call me boy!" Harry snapped back with a heated glare._

_"And why not?" Snape asked with a sneer sealed on his face, "Have you not deserved the title? Is your pride getting hurt?" he continued to hiss out._

_"No." Harry replied through gritted teeth slowly as he looked to the side. Snape took a step closer, raising his arm to grab Harry and to force him to look at Snape, to show the burning hurt that made Snape gleeful. However, as he did that, Harry's vision began to blur because the movement brought back a memory._

_"You stupid fucking boy..." Uncle Vernon barely whispered. His purple face, laced with red, began to splotch with white. Harry could swear that his uncle was foaming at the mouth... Uncle Vernon's large, meaty hands where clenching into fists, and he raised his right arm with a speed that you couldn't think possible of him._

_CRACK!_

_Harry fell backwards into his cupboard from the sheer force of the blow. For once, he was grateful that he could hide in there instead of being in the clear opening in his uncle's wrath. He scooted further in the small, closed-in area. He was already covered with bruises from the night before, a punishment for not finishing his unbelievably long list of chores before his uncle came home from work. I mean how could you wash the car when it's not there?_

_Dismally, he thought about how his "family" crossed the line and how nobody cared. For no one came for him._

_"Don't you dare think that you can hide from me, boy!" Uncle Vernon bellowed as he reached in the cupboard and latched his hand around Harry's slender throat, choking the small boy. Harry's lungs began to burn after a whole minutes worth of no oxygen as his uncle picked him up by the throat._

_"This is it, boy. I had enough of you..." he said sorely._

_"POTTER! Pay attention! That's ten points from Gryffindor! And a night's worth of detention." Snape stepped even closer to Harry, and the boy took a step backwards, causing a puzzled look to play over Snape's face for the briefest second._

_Severus reached out for the boy, like in Harry's dreams, to caress him, but this was no stance for Snape to gently run his fingers through Harry's hair. Instead, he grabbed the young Gryffindor's forearm and jerked him forward._

_"I hate you! Don't touch me!" Harry cried as he jerked wildly, still lost in his memory, fearing that Uncle Vernon would knock his fist into him again, or knock him down and give a swift kick in his ribs harshly.«_

"Hellooo! Is anyone in there? Bloody hell, Harry! Snap out of it!" Ron said furiously as he tapped his large hand on Harry's cheek, causing the raven haired boy to squirm away from his touch, knocking him out of his unhealthy trance. Dull green eyes blankly stared at Ron's face, dully noting the fair amount of freckles that was speckled across his best friend's face.

"Alright, alright. Geez..." Apparently, to Harry, he wasn't allowed to think. 'After all...he was the Boy-Who-Live,' he thought bitterly.

All of the sudden, Harry was tired, and he wanted nothing more than to go to bed.

"I'm going to bed. 'Night..." he said quietly.

"Whatever. Anyway," Ron droned on about Quidditch, claiming that they would win, smashing the Slytherin's faces in the dirt.

"Did you see Hermoine? She looked-"

"Pretty, I know, Ron." Ron gave a pointed, accusing look, and Harry just sighed, not wanting to deal with more drama for the night, "No, Ron. She's not my type." The red-head's frowning face relaxed as he clapped Harry on the back. He was completely oblivious to Harry's pain as well.

"Well, g'night, Harry."

"Goodnight, Ron." it was said sadly, but still went unnoticed. Harry just sighed softly and climbed in his bed. When he finished tucking himself in, he looked over at Ron, somewhat willing to talk about tonight's events, but he found Ron fast asleep with a unmistakable grin on his freckled face.

Neville's soft snores floated through the room, but that wasn't keeping Harry up. It was his thoughts and they were racing. He was also afraid of the visions that would plague him. Eventually, his vision began to blur and darken with voices echoing around in his head.

_»"Stupid boy!"_

_"Idiotic boy!"_

_"You fucking piece of shit! You deserve to die! But even that's to good for you!"_

_"Arrogant little boy."«_

'I'm not a boy... not with what I had to grow up with... but, I'm not a man either... I'm ignorant, stupid, arrogant, worthless, a freak. No one loves me. No one ever will.' Harry snap up into a sitting position, wide awake. He looked around, seeing all of the boys still asleep, undisturbed by his little scene. As quietly as he could, he slid his legs over the edge of the soft bed and walked over barefooted to his trunk. He dug around just a quietly until something sharp slides against the tip of his finger, creating a pressure and slight sting. He found it.

He took out his knife and invisibility cloak and headed off to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. So far, she's kept his secrets, and as far as he knew, she would never tell them either, for she promised him. Harry could trust her, she didn't call him a freak or a boy, and she listened and took his grief upon hers.

Harry could tell that she could feel his presence near, for she wailed uncontrollably, her moaning ricocheting down the cold stone walls.

"Oh, Harry..." Moaning Myrtle cried. Her translucent figure floated about, watching the ebony haired young man with concern. She tilted her head to the side, her eyes trained on the familiar glint of silver slashing. The silver soon was lined with a dark red that dripped on the floor.

Harry hissed as the pain began to bloom with each slice.

"Harry... please-"

"Hush, Myrtle... it's nothing to worry about." he interrupted gently, trying to sooth her fears once again.

"If you die, you can share-"

"Yes, yes, I know, Myrtle, and I'm grateful, thank you..." he softly injected.

"Myrtle, could I be alone for a little while?" he asked after a long pause. With a harsh wail, bordering a scream, Moaning Myrtle flew into the toilet, splashing great amounts of water over the sides of it and onto the floor.

Harry merely stared for a moment and then quietly thanked her.

He returned his gaze to his bleeding and scarred wrists, looking at the deep cuts and the blood that was freely flowing out of the wounds, entranced by its strange beauty. A faint odor drifted around him. It almost refreshed him in a twisted way. But the thing was, it was his blood. Not the blood of innocent muggles, witches, and wizards.

No. It was his blood. His life's that oozed then finally ran down his arm then to the floor in small rivers of red. It was a beautiful color. A Gryffindor color. It looked so dark in the shadowy washroom.

Fingering the sharp edge of his blade, he thought of destructive thoughts once more. He was sixteen now, and he knew that his time to end was near. Or so he felt. Why give Voldemort the satisfaction of killing him? He was going to die anyway. He was weak.

'Stupid moron. How do you think that you'll win people's affections when they know that you're a freak... look at yourself... you need physical pain so you know that you still feel in some way... numb... I'm getting numb inside. And I don' care anymore...' he viciously thought.

_»"Listen, you little freak!" Aunt Petunia screamed, "Look at this mess! In my beautiful kitchen! I don't know what you did, boy, but once your uncle finds out-"_

_"Finds out what, dear Petunia?" Uncle Vernon asked lovingly as he walked through the front door with a sickening smile plastered on his chubby face._

_"Look at this mess he made! He- he- he did the M-word..."_

_"WHAT!" he bellowed so loudly that Harry and Petunia almost had to close their ears to save them some pain. However, Aunt Petunia just tilted her head and gazed at Vernon, then smiling nastily at her frightened nephew. Her crooked smile only grew once she heard her Duddlykins scream for her. She went up stairs and tended to him._

_"Listen here, boy..." Uncle Vernon glowered._

_"I-I didn't mean it, Uncle! It was an accident! Aunt Petunia hit me with a frying pan and-"_

_"And I'm sure you deserved it! You worthless piece of shit!" Harry's courage quickly faded as his overly large uncle took a few steps closer to him. He could feel the fear crawling around in his chest once he saw his uncle open the buckle of his belt...«_

"STOP IT! Please! Just stop! No more thoughts! I..." His vision swam as his head bean to have a spinning feeling to it. He foolishly stood up, thinking that it would help clear his head. Wobbling and shaking, he took a step back, only to have his vision turn black, blinding him. With a soft moan, he fell over with a hard thud.

He was completely oblivious to Myrtle's crying.

* * *

End of Chapter 1

* * *

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	3. Chapter Two

Chapter Two:

"Where's Harry?" Hermoine asked, her bushy brown hair bouncing as she looked up from her breakfast.

Ron stuffed some scrambled eggs in his mouth and replied, "Dunno."

Finally swallowing with a gulp that could actually be heard, he continued, "He wasn't in bed this morning."

"And you weren't worried?" came the dry reply.

"No," a little bit of bacon was now shoveled in, "He tends to go on night walks and not come back until class is ready."

"How often is this?" Hermoine prompted.

"Dunno. I don't pay attention. It happens," he swallowed hard, and reached out for some orange juice to get the lump down, coughing a little in the process. Hermoine patted his back, slightly irritated, "It happens," he repeated as he gulped for air, "Often." He gagged slightly at the pieces that were still caught in his throat.

"You're hopeless, Ronald Weasley," she sighed, "It's almost time to start class..."

"Yep."

"Don't you think that it's odd that he's not here yet?"

"Stop worrying 'Moine. He'll be here, he's always here." '_Because he's the bloody Boy-Who-Lived_.' he thought crossly. Hermoine glanced up at the teachers' table and saw none other than Professor Snape glancing at one particular empty seat.

Professor Snape knew something was wrong. That little idiot always got himself in trouble. '_No matter._' he thought to himself '_He always manage to weasel his way out of it. The little brat._' Still, Potter had been acting strangely last night, that much didn't pass Severus. However, to him, Harry was still his infuriating self. But the boy flinched so much... how could _that_ go unnoticed by the infamous Potions Master? His coal black eyes glanced once more at the table before returning to the last of his breakfast.

"Ah, Severus, my dear boy. What seems to be troubling you?" Albus asked as he watched Severus viciously stab at his eggs, lost in thought.

"Nothing. Just thinking, Albus." Severus answered after a period of silence. The older wizard nodded and turned his attention elsewhere, knowing to let Severus think in peace.

'_Foolish boy..._'

"Harry?" Myrtle cried, "Harry?"

No response. Harry laid on the hard and cold floor, his blood slowly pooling around him. Sluggishly, he opened his exhausted green eyes. Dizziness hit him at full force when he barely rolled on his back, hardly breathing for air. His skin became a lovely shade of ivory white, making him look more fragile, like a porcelain doll.

'_Stupid boy_...' he thought to himself angrily. He idly wondered what time it was and if anyone noticed that he was missing. He couldn't see the afternoon sun shine in the clear blue sky. Suddenly, he heard the heartbreaking wails.

"Myrtle... stop..." he whispered, and she was silent.

"Oh, Harry..." her icy cold fingers touched the surface of his cheek, not feeling his own cold skin. Her tears ran down her pale face, causing water to rise slowly from the ground.

"It's not time yet..." she wept. But he didn't hear her again, his hearing was fading in and out, and his thoughts were winning over the harsh reality that he was dying. Myrtle's cries were going unheard and her touch unknown by him.

'_Moron... no one will cry over you._'

"Harry's been missing all day, Ron!"

"I know, 'Moine..."

"We've got to find him. You better go to the tower after class..." she softly whispered.

"That's five points from Gryffindor." Snape coolly told them. Draco's pale lips twisted into a smirk as he gazed at his teacher.

"But, Sir-"

"SILENCE! I will _not_ have you disrupt my class _again_, Miss Granger."

"She didn't even interrupt it once-"

"That's five more points, Mr. Weasley." Ron's face glowed a hot red as a blush fiercely burned in his cheeks.

"What is everyone looking at? Get back to work! Your pitiful potions are due by the end of class! Which is in thirty minutes!" Snape barked with his arms crossed. Everyone turned their heads away from the two and worked on their potions. Vaguely, in the back of Snape's mind, he thought about their missing celebrity, anger turning into a silent raging storm inside of him. '_How **dare** that boy skip my class! I should go find that little brat and give him two more weeks worth of detention!_' He waited a few long minutes before making his next move.

"Mr. Malfoy, you are in charge, I shall be back in mere moments. Not a one of you are to help each other. This is a test, if you blundering idiots can get that through your thick skulls.." he swiftly said in his intimidating manner and left with his black robes billowing out behind him. A nasty grin threatened to slither its way onto his lips, but his self-control won over and his usual sneer plastered on his grouchy looking face.

He walked to the tower, expecting to find the student who was doing truancy.

"Open up." he demanded.

"Hmph." the fat lady said. She turned her nose up and looked down her nose, "You're not a Gryffindor. You shall not pass."

"Yes, well, a _Gryffindor_ student of mine is skipping my class. I have come to retrieve him."

"Him? Well, Professor Snape, I'm not sorry to tell you, but none of the students are in the dormitory. They all left."

"Even Harry Potter?" he snidely asked.

"Even Harry Potter."

"Where did the blasted boy go?" He was growing impatient, and he let her know it. She simply turned her nose up further and pointed the direction of where Harry went last night.

Briskly, Snape stormed off. His patience was getting lower and lower. Apparently, this little Gryffindor has been exploring and getting into things that he should not be in. Again. He headed towards the end of the hall, stopping when harsh cries and long moans echoed around in the hall. His feet began to get wet with the water that had risen off of the floor.

"Damn it. Bloody boy." He headed off to the girls bathroom, to find out why Moaning Myrtle was causing such a racket.

He barged through the heavy doors, yelling, "MYRTLE! Stop your infernal ra-" Suddenly, he stopped. The smell of metallic copper swam in his nostrils. His shoes splashed in the water as he hurried around the sinks, finding Myrtle simply floating around and crying. Below her, was Harry. Suicidal Harry.

His heart skipped a beat when he didn't see Harry breathing. He may have not _liked_ the wretched boy, but that didn't mean he didn't want him to _die._ He did save the boy after all. And it looked like it would happen again. And Severus' good deed would be left unheard. Like he cared much about that.

Slipping his arms under the boy's prone body, he lifted him up, way too easily. He then cradle Potter to his chest, feeling the lack of warmth from the small body. Fear rose up in him again, and he check his pulse. It was there, but barely... He had to hurry unless he wanted Potter to move on.

"Hurry..." Myrtle whispered, "Before it's too late." Snape glared at her quickly and made a brisk walk out of the bathroom.

"Poppy! I need your help! _NOW._"

"Keep your voice down! I have a patient!" she snapped.

"Well, you have another one." he barely kept his sneer in place. He didn't want to admit it, but he was worried about the boy, not even to himself.

"What- oh my... Well, just don't stand there! Bring him over here, and hurry!" Severus put the unconscious boy down on a clean bed, watching Madam Pomfry work her way through it. She ordered him to get several potions and he dutifully got them in swift and quick movements. In no time, Potter was breathing regularly, but he remained in his dark world, completely ignorant to all around him, and that he was living.

"Will the wretched boy be alright?" he asked bleakly.

"Of course. He just needs to replenish some of his blood on his own. The potions couldn't bring it all back. Go get some blankets, he's still a bit cool to the touch and I imagine the poor dear is freezing." With a distasteful look, he did her bidding. He looked at Potter's now healed up wrists, seeing the scars that now covered them.

"They were to deep," she explained. He snorted and looked away.

"Alright, out with you. He needs his rest."

"I must be off anyway, Poppy. I have a class to attend."

"Either way, out with you. Go on!" she said quickly. Severus turned and left with another of his dramatic scenes, his robes flapping wildly back behind him.

* * *

well, it's been awhile, I know that... hope you guys enjoyed it anyway


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